By Choice
by K Hanna Korossy
Summary: “It’s very simple. You’ve both been poisoned.”


_Written for my dear Jeanne, based on an episode of _Space: 1999 _I have not seen_  
_This is my 200th SPN fic! I think that's the chocolate chip-cookie anniversary..._**  
**

**By Choice**  
K Hanna Korossy

"It's very simple," the entity said calmly.

"Really," Dean snarled, hand clutched around his stomach. "Enlighten me."

00000

"You've both been poisoned."

Sam stared at the ageless face and burning eyes, feeling small for once as he lay curled on the ground. "Wait," he groaned. "Dean's here, too?"

00000

"You challenged us—this is the result."

"You son of a—" Dean tried to surge up, but fell back with a gasp. "Where's Sam?"

00000

"The poison is fatal. Untreated, you _will_ die."

"We weren't trying to challenge you," Sam insisted, then grunted as his gut twisted again. "W-we were trying to help."

00000

"There is, however, a cure."

Dean glared at the thing from the ground. It was clearly going to play this the way it wanted; he wouldn't give it the pleasure of begging.

00000

"Here." One hand unrolled to reveal a stoppered vial. "The cure will be instant."

"What's the catch?" Sam asked, eyes narrowing.

00000

"There is only one dose. Only one of you will survive."

"Give it to Sam," Dean said without hesitation.

00000

"It is for you to choose," the entity—and how had Sam thought before it was beautiful?—said serenely.

"Fine," Sam whispered, "I'm choosing Dean."

00000

"It is not for me to do." The vial dropped to the floor, rolling to Dean's side, the only color in the white box. "You must either take it yourself, or put it through there for your brother." One tapered hand pointed to the far wall, where a slot broke the otherwise featureless surface.

Dean stared at it, blinking sweat out of his eyes. "You've gotta be kidding me."

00000

"No. It is that simple."

Sam rode out the tearing wave of pain, eyes pinned to the far wall. "Dean's on the other side?"

00000

"This is your choice." And then the being…melted away.

Dean paused only a second, weighing the risks, the options. The bottom line, though, was that he had nothing to lose trying, and everything to lose if he didn't. He started crawling.

00000

It had to be an Old One. Nothing else played judge, jury, and executioner like this, all-powerful, creative, cruel. Which explained why Sam couldn't remember how they'd gotten there.

It also meant the being probably wasn't lying. Sam gathered his shaking body and started to move.

00000

The "room" wasn't that big, but the distance to the wall seemed miles. Dean tried calling out "Sammy!" at one point, only to have his hope echoed back at him.

He grit his teeth against the fire in his belly and kept going.

00000

Dean was smaller in mass. The poison would probably work faster on him.

It felt like his own insides were being shredded, and Sam paused once to spit blood. But he kept going, sliding on his knees like a one-year-old, thinking only of his brother's sacrifices.

00000

Almost there. Which was good, because his vision was starting to fail and his hands were going numb.

Dean bit his lip bloody to keep from making a sound as he crossed the last few feet. The vial was clutched so tightly in his hand, it was a wonder it didn't break.

00000

Sam sobbed his relief as he reached the slot and sagged against the wall. "Dean," he tried to call, but his voice was down to a rasp.

It took two tries to lift his shaking hand to the slot and shove the vial through.

00000

"Take it, Sammy," Dean murmured, eyes falling shut in relief.

Then popping open again as the vial neatly plunked back out of the slot, onto the floor.

00000

"No!" Sam yelled, picking up the vial, only to find the slot had vanished. "No, you said I could give it to him!"

And suddenly, the entity was back.

00000

"You bastard," Dean seethed, trying to pull himself up to jump the thing, only to fall back to the floor. The spirit was furiously willing, but the body was…dying.

"You will live," said the calm voice.

00000

"Please," Sam pleaded. "Please, you said I could choose. I want Dean to have it."

The entity bent, crouched, and something almost kind crossed its face. "He will as well. This one is for you."

00000

"I don't-don't—God!" Dean threw his head back, breathing hard through his nose. "Don't…believe you…"

"You must take it, or you will die."

00000

"But Dean will be okay, too?" Sam asked, panting. "Both of us?"

"Yes."

00000

"Dean Winchester, your brother is safe. You have passed. Save yourself now."

Dean just scowled his defiance as he choked on blood.

And suddenly, Sam was there, pushing past the entity, kneeling next to Dean.

Dean stared at him, disbelieving, even as his body shuddered in spasm.

"You idiot," Sam said fondly, lifting his head and tilting the vial's contents into his mouth. "You were saving it for me, weren't you."

Dean sputtered and shook, but he swallowed, first unable to say anything, then not really wanting to as a very real, very alive Sam wrapped himself around him.

They were still huddled together when they were abruptly back in their room, as if they'd never left.

00000

"I hate Old Ones," Dean grumbled.

Sam watched out of the corner of his eye as his brother moved gingerly across the room, but it seemed more in the expectation of pain than the presence of it. His brother had definitely gotten the worse end of things, but considering they'd been dying a few hours before, they were both doing pretty well. "They let us go. We passed the test."

"What, by being willing to die?" Dean said caustically as he picked through his clothes.

"By being willing to sacrifice ourselves for each other," Sam amended quietly.

Dean stopped moving a moment, then went back to sorting. "So, the others, they…weren't?"

"Mary Sanderson came back," Sam pointed out, not needing to mention that her husband hadn't. "And Alex Roorda," without his sister. "Maybe there are others we don't even know about."

"And we just leave them to keep playing God like this?"

Sam chewed his lip. "You can't stop an Old One, Dean. Some lore says they're angels, here to do God's will. You can reason with them," and his small smile acknowledged that Dean had, indeed, once done so, to save Sam's life. Again. "But ultimately, they stop when they want to. And…I think they're done here, anyway."

Dean tilted back to look at him, gaze wary. "What makes you think that?"

"They found what they were looking for," Sam said, looking him in the eye.

Dean flushed a little, bit his lip, looked away.

Nodded silently.

They didn't talk about it again.

The next day they moved on to a neighboring state to check out Bigfoot sightings.

**The End**


End file.
